


The Boner Test

by QuizzicalQuinnia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Boners, F/M, Rom-com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuizzicalQuinnia/pseuds/QuizzicalQuinnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Brienne Tarth causes a spontaneous boner for her gym's hottest male patron, the gym's smoothie making Dornish temptress Ellaria Sand fixes on a plan to prove who else might succeed in seducing the boner-owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boner Test

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ikkiM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Mikki! It's your annual gift of (almost) smut, and I'm posting at 11:47 PST, so it COUNTS I tell you. 
> 
> Thanks to Jag for the last-minute (because me) beta :-)

 

Brienne Tarth could bench press three hundred pounds. She could do fifteen pullups in a row without pausing. She could hold a perfectly straight plank for eight minutes. The only time she had ever broken form was once, in the middle of a kettle bell throw, when she caught the green-eyed man staring at her.

The bell landed a mere two feet away, _thunk_ ing on the padded gym floor with a sound Brienne thought her heart should have made as it plummeted inside her chest. The man’s green eyes were wide as she stared back, and then he blinked and shrugged and walked away.

She was used to the judgement, the appraisal. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t bother her, but she was _used_ to it, and that was good enough. The green-eyed man, though…she didn’t know how to read his stare. She skipped the next day at the gym.

It was another week gone by, and though she had returned to her daily sessions after work, she had a growing mental list of motives behind the green-eyed man’s stare. They were all negative, obviously, but it was somehow important for Brienne to label that particular stare so she could develop enough defense to avoid a repeat of the embarrassing bell drop. In case he stared again. Which he probably wouldn’t, now that he’d finally noticed her awkward, large body encased in her least favorite attire, tight and unforgiving and necessary for her most favorite method of releasing tension. Someone should invent exercises where loose robes were the best option.

So it had been a week, and she thought about the green-eyed man. She’d seen him before, all the time really, though _seen_ was an exaggeration. Glimpsed was more like it. She consciously avoided _seeing_ any of the regular gym patrons, the same group of fifteen or twenty at the same time every day. The green-eyed man had joined several months before, and was there on the elliptical or at the weights four or five days a week since. When she was on the treadmill, she could see his back in the mirror in front of her, as he lifted.

He must not have noticed her before, so he’d stared. But that didn’t make sense, since _everyone_ noticed her no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. Maybe she’d looked particularly sweaty that day. Maybe she’d popped a capillary as she’d tensed to throw the bell, though she hadn’t seen anything different as she’d looked in the mirror that night, just the same body as always.

After that week of preoccupation, she decided to forget about the stare and the green-eyed man it belonged to. She threw the bell a lot, to make sure her distance was improving. She decided to take a quick shower in the locker room before _and_ after her session, rather than just after as she had always done, in case she’d been somehow unpleasantly odorous or grossly drenched in sweat. She watched the little television on her treadmill rather than the mirror in front of her.

She didn’t see him stare a second time.

Not that week.

* * *

 

She’d finally relaxed. She was about to break her bench press record, too, so _that_ was something. Maybe two, three more days, and she’d make three hundred and ten pounds. There was a tiny smile lurking at the corner of her lips as she moved from the weights area to the women’s locker room, and she let it come out completely once she was alone in the shower. She liked the new shampoo she’d picked up. It smelled like lime and the sea.

She dried off and dressed in her favorite flowy trousers and shirt which her boss always told her looked like airplane attire. Brienne liked the thin fabric and the way it didn’t cling to her skin, and she thought she looked her best in black which tended to conceal how meager her breasts were.

There were few people in the gym at that time of day, verging on the dinner hour and before the night crowd. Brienne spotted one of the regulars, Ellaria, who sometimes also worked the smoothie stand. Brienne had never ordered a smoothie there. She didn’t understand why some concoction of juices and powders topped a good old egg white or a nice chicken breast. Brienne halted outside the locker rooms, waiting for Ellaria to move into another area so she could avoid the small talk neither of them would want. She took her phone out as a prop to look at.

Ellaria was Dornish, lithe and beautiful, with a tanned glow Brienne was unable to genetically mimic. That was the kind of thing Brienne could only think in the safety of her mind, because if she said it aloud, even in passing, it would only add fuel to the frequent assumption that she was into women. That was something else she didn’t understand, why it was almost expected that a woman who was very tall and maybe not at all pretty would only be attracted to smaller, prettier women. It was just a fact that Ellaria was beautiful. Everybody could see that.

No matter, though. It wasn’t as if—

A body ran right into her, someone from one of the locker rooms since it hit her on the side facing that direction. Her phone flew out of her hand, and the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She felt herself falling backward as her feet fruitlessly scrambled to prevent it. She saw a blur of green, and she was spun around as hands wrapped themselves around her arms, just above her elbows.

She did fall, but not on her back. She fell onto a pile of tensed muscle and smooth flesh and crisp cotton. Her neck snapped back a bit from the impact, so for just a minute or so, maybe less, she let it fall and rest next to the other head with her nose just brushing his collar. She’d probably injured the green-eyed man with her weight.

She thought he’d grabbed her to keep her on top, to make sure she fell on him and not he on her. It wouldn’t have mattered. She hadn’t really noticed before that they were about the same height, maybe even the same weight. If she lifted her face a few inches, she’d be able to see right into his green eyes. She didn’t look.

She raised her arms and placed her palms on the floor as she prepared to lift herself from his body. Surely he must be in pain?

Something nudged her inner thigh. One of his hands must have gotten trapped, she thought. But no, they were both still wrapped around her arms. She could tell, because his grip tightened. She pushed with her palms which successfully created space between her chest and his, but not nearly enough. Her nipples had been a bit hard from her earlier cold shower, and now the rare feeling of a warm male body against her really wasn’t helping that matter. They just brushed his chest. She felt more nudging. The distraction of her nipple embarrassment had prevented her from realizing that lifting her torso caused her hips to press into him more. It had been a bad move. She was no longer so sure her thin trousers were a good idea. She could feel _everything_.

She lifted her head, knowing her eyes would be blown wide in shock, but she had to see, however masochistic, if he were mocking her.

There were those green eyes that had stared at her weeks before, gleaming and as wide as hers. He looked…scared? Confused? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t read him any better than before, but she knew what she didn’t see: the derision, mortification, or even humor she’d seen in so many faces over the years. She felt his chest press further against hers as he sucked in a breath.

She felt two stabs. One against her thigh, very inappropriately close to where that part of the green-eyed man’s body clearly wanted to be, and one inside her mind and maybe in her chest a little, a warning stab that if she didn’t move, she might go against her entire sense of self and just stay there and let him be shocked and press his erection against her all he wanted.

She pushed up hard with her palms and found her footing enough to roll off his body. She got up so quickly she was a little dizzy. She didn’t look at him. It was just a biological thing, a body finding itself close to another body. Women like her didn’t cause spontaneous erections in men like him, men who were beautiful like Ellaria was beautiful, only in that very male way.

They would look good together, she thought. Tanned and beautiful people.

The green-eyed man got up with a groan. She glanced at him, she couldn’t help it. His gaze flickered over her for a second or so, and then he darted away without a word, into the men’s locker room.

She straightened her clothes and picked up her phone. She heard a chuckle.

Over at the smoothie stand, Ellaria was staring straight at her with a wide grin parting her glossed lips. Her lilting Dornish accent floated over the counter. “I guess he’s finally ready to see what’s out there.”

Brienne stepped closer to Ellaria as if the green-eyed man could possibly hear through the locker room walls. The woman's usual cloud of smoky oud perfume clogged her nose. “What?”

Ellaria’s grin turned sly. “If you tell me you didn’t notice his reaction, I’ll know you’re a liar.”

Brienne blushed. She felt it creeping over her skin like ivy climbing the walls of an old mansion. She said nothing.

Ellaria shrugged in that particular, southern way, like a momentary dance with one body part. “This is great news. That poor man’s been so depressed, I thought he’d never notice anyone again. Now I can make my move.”

Brienne fixed her gaze on the Dornish woman, some bizarre urge to defend the green-eyed man from a predator rooting itself in her. “Your move?”

Ellaria shrugged again. “Yes.” She whispered and glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve heard _things_ from a friend of a friend. That sort of thing, you know? He was in a terrible relationship. Ended horribly, but now it’s been what, two years? And he’s _clearly_ ready for action.” Ellaria winked. “I’m a fantastic rebound. It’s in my blood.”

Brienne’s gaze sharpened, her brow furrowing. “He was embarrassed.”

“Well, sure, but his body doesn’t know it was _you_ ,” Ellaria commented with no hint of malice. It was just fact, like Dornishwomen being lithe and beautiful.

Brienne frowned despite herself, and glanced at the locker room entrance, also despite herself.

Ellaria nodded at the door. “You don’t know who he is, do you?”

Brienne stood as tall as she could and tried hard to adopt a look of complete disinterest.

Ellaria chuckled. “Jaime Lannister,” she said in a tone that clearly expected immediate shock in return.

Brienne took longer than Ellaria wanted to react. That was why people thought she was slow, because she always needed a few seconds at the minimum to determine which response would garner the least negativity from others. She wasn’t slow, though. Not at all. She knew who Jaime Lannister was, just as everyone in King’s Landing knew who he was, and every other member of the Lannister family, too. But she hadn’t recognized him. He’d been out of the limelight for years, and he’d changed from the photos of his youth she could recall. His hair was a darker blonde, and he wore stubble. She though it made him more beautiful somehow.

“I know who he is,” she muttered, but then the shock did hit, that _Jaime Lannister_ had gotten…excited, from contact with her body.

It was just biological. It _was_.

Ellaria shrugged. “I should thank you for breaking the ice.” She leaned closer over the counter as if conspiring. “I’m going to be the perfect rebound, all sex and no commitment. It’s going to be delicious.”

Brienne frowned harder. That wasn’t fair. The green-eyed man— _Jaime Lannister_ —seemed almost shy, or at least as if he didn’t want attention. Now, he was going to have to fend off a viper because of her.

Brienne sighed and shook her head a little. Why would he fend off Ellaria at all? She was beautiful.

Brienne really was masochistic. She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What are you going to do?”

Ellaria grinned and pushed her boobs up higher in the sports bra that looked more decorative than useful in the support department. “It seems a nice fall did the trick, so I think a repeat performance with a more desirable partner would be in order.”

 _“Now?”_ Brienne asked too loudly.

“Tomorrow, I think. So he’s unprepared.” Ellaria nodded confidently, smiled almost nicely, and returned to arranging the various colored smoothie powders in their clear containers.

Brienne wanted to march right into the men’s locker room and warn Jaime Lannister about his impending seduction, but she reminded herself yet again that it wasn’t her place, that her interference would be unwanted, that a man like him didn’t need _help_. She thought about skipping the gym the next day to avoid having to watch Ellaria’s femininity in action.

But there was that masochistic streak again, rearing its ugly head. She wanted to _see_. She wanted to know how a beautiful woman interacted with a beautiful man, like a documentary on beasts in the wild. So she’d come after work as usual and maybe bring some popcorn.

* * *

 

Brienne sat on a stool at the smoothie stand with a mango kiwi antioxidant power boost smoothie in her hand. It was disgusting. It tasted like ground up children’s cereal mixed with weeds. But she couldn’t very well watch from the stand with no real reason, or it would be creepy. This way, she was just taking a smoothie break as she kept track of Ellaria in her periphery.

The beautiful viper was leaning against the wall right outside the men’s locker room, _texting_. The _tap-tap_ of her long nails on the screen of her phone was beginning to give Brienne a twitch. Jaime Lannister was taking a shower. Probably. He’d gone inside the locker room ten minutes before, and Ellaria kept to her plan from the day before, a snake waiting to strike at an innocent mouse. Brienne chuckled around the straw in her smoothie. As if any Lannister could ever be _innocent_.

The idea was so hilarious that she nearly laughed aloud, and she was smiling as she glanced up to see whether Ellaria had given up. Just at that moment, Jaime Lannister walked out of the locker room, his hair damp and messy as if he’d raked his fingers through it and called it a day. He spotted her as she smiled because it had not yet fallen from her lips, and he started to smile back—he must have mistakenly though she was smiling at _him_ —and he tripped over Ellaria’s extended foot.

Brienne jumped up before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to help him. This was the plan, or at least _Ellaria’s_ plan. Brienne was just supposed to observe like a scientist recording data.

Down Jaime Lannister went, and Ellaria very artfully went down with him. She landed right on top of his body, just as Brienne had, but the way Ellaria’s hips settled over his groin was _very_ intentional. Ellaria giggled. It was the birdlike titter of a girl half her age. Her breasts spilled out of her hot pink sports bra, pressing against Jaime Lannister’s chest, and Brienne could see Ellaria’s brown eyes gleaming with heat as she leaned over her victim.

Jaime Lannister rolled his head to one side. He avoided the gleaming eyes and sizeable breasts, and Brienne thought he might have gotten frozen somehow, his body was so stiff. Not _stiff_ as it had been the day before, but stiff all over like a corpse. He flattened his hands against the floor and exhaled all the air from his lungs to make his chest sink in.

“So sorry,” he muttered almost unintelligibly. “Must be a wrinkle in the carpet. I keep tripping.”

He remained nearly motionless, apparently waiting for Ellaria to move away. The Dornishwoman peered down at him, glanced briefly up at Brienne with furrowed brows, and reluctantly rose to her feet. She waited until Jaime looked up at her for a second, to see whether it was safe to get up, Brienne thought, and she adjusted her boobs and winked.

Jaime Lannister scowled. He ignored Ellaria’s hand, which was extending to offer help, and he leapt up with a feline grace that should belong to a much smaller man. He brushed his clothes off and nodded politely at Ellaria before darting away, just as he had the day before.

But before _that_ …Brienne looked. She looked at his trousers. She looked to see if there was a reaction. She saw nothing. Well, not _nothing_. She saw…shapes of things. He was a nicely built man. That was another fact anyone could see. But she saw nothing indicating that the shapes had changed for any reason.

She was confused.

She glanced at Ellaria whose seductress smile had morphed into a furious snarl. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled, staring straight at Brienne. “I don’t understand.”

Brienne was clearly expected to reply. She was clueless. What would another woman like Ellaria say to console her about…not producing a _reaction_? She tried to shrug very casually and thought she probably looked like a turtle whose neck was descending into its shell. “Maybe you’re not his type.”

Ellaria looked murderous for a moment, then it was as if a lightbulb had turned on in her mind. She peered at the top of Brienne’s head. “He likes blondes! His ex was blonde, so that _must_ be it!”

Brienne frowned. Was it that simple? That anyone with blonde hair would…

“Yes,” Ellaria continued, her finger tapping against her lip. “I know how to test this. I _have_ to know.”

Brienne sighed. Poor Jaime Lannister. He’d probably quit the gym. She was afraid to ask what Ellaria had up her sleeve, so she remained silent and sucked down the last of the terrible smoothie.

“You know Daeny?” Ellaria pointed at her but didn’t wait for a reply. “Yes, she’s just the thing. So tiny, and she has spectacular tits.”

Brienne sighed again. “Tomorrow?”

Ellaria nodded, a grin finally returning to her face. “Yes, tomorrow.”

* * *

 

The avocado acai cacao performance protein smoothie wasn’t any better than the last. It might even have been worse, like bark mixed with the clay face mask her mother used to wear every weekend.

Brienne perched on her stool the next day, waiting for _Daeny_ to arrive. This time, Ellaria intended the latest seductress to corner Jaime Lannister while he was lifting and ask for help. Brienne sipped her mud and pretended to play some game on her phone. This deception proved more challenging than she’d anticipated. Jaime Lannister was doing chin ups.

It wasn’t anything Brienne couldn’t do herself, but the way a man’s muscles flexed was different than the way a woman’s muscles flexed. So it was interesting to watch him lift himself from the floor with just the strength of his arms. He’d taken his shirt off, too, so she could see how his back tightened to support his weight in the air. He didn’t usually take his shirt off. It didn’t really seem hotter that day.

She should go run on the treadmill. She felt antsy, just waiting and watching, and she felt the itch to use her muscles.

Ellaria stood behind the smoothie counter, glaring at the gym’s entrance every few seconds. Finally, the door opened to usher in a young woman with blonde hair that verged on silver it was so pale, and wide violet eyes, and huge breasts for a frame so tiny it could belong to a teenager. _Daeny_ would probably reach Brienne’s armpits. It would be an awkward encounter she’d certainly have to avoid.

Daeny smiled at Ellaria who jerked her head toward Jaime Lannister. Ellaria glided from behind the counter and followed Daeny into the lifting area, but she hung back as Daeny headed toward the dumbbells. Brienne had a clear view of the absurd tableau.

It was a like a music video, with the beautiful man just hanging out in the background, in this case literally as Jaime Lannister was suspended from the bar by his fingers, and Daeny peering up at his body with a predatory grin on her face, just like Ellaria’s. Daeny slowly unzipped her tight hoodie. She peeled it from her shoulders and let it drop. Brienne could see that her sports bra was even less of a help than Ellaria’s.

Daeny turned very slowly to contemplate the weights, then she bent down to select the lightest, pausing for so long that Brienne thought she might have trouble lifting even that. She felt stupid that it took her so long to realize that Daeny was just displaying her shapely behind.

Jaime Lannister hadn’t looked. Brienne knew, because she’d barely taken her eyes off him. After all, it was _his_ reaction she was looking for.

 _Not_ looking for. She was just curious. She just wanted to understand how people interacted. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hear them speak, so she gingerly moved from the smoothie stand into the weights area, going to her usual spot at the bench press. It wouldn’t be unusual to see her there. No one would notice. She sat on the bench and wrapped her wrists, a clear view of the drama available whenever she looked up.

Daeny lifted a dumbbell and moaned. Brienne rolled her eyes. 

Daeny set the weight down and glared at it like a frustrated kitten. She glanced up at Jaime as if she’d just noticed him. “Excuse me, but could you spot me? I’m having some difficulty.”

Brienne watched as Jaime dropped from the bar and paused a moment. His shoulders tensed. He blinked rapidly. He wiped himself down with a towel and put his shirt back on. That was unfortunate, Brienne thought. He’d just get too hot again.

“Um, sure,” he said.

Daeny beamed and lifted the weight again, groaning as if it weighed more than she did. “Is this the right form?”

Jaime Lannister barely examined it. “Yes.”

“Oh good.” Daeny’s words flowed like silk from her tongue. “I’m so worried about form, aren’t you?”

“No,” said Jaime Lannister.

Daeny frowned a little. She lowered the weight and set it on the ground. “Am I doing this right?”

“Yes,” said Jaime Lannister.

Daeny frowned more. Ellaria also frowned. Brienne grinned and tied off her wrist wraps.

Daeny bent to pick up the weight again, _accidentally_ backing into Jaime Lannister with her behind and _accidentally_ grinding against his groin.

“Oh dear,” she giggled. “Sorry.”

Jaime Lannister backed away immediately. He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you need my help. You need a trainer.”

He smiled politely and walked away.

Toward Brienne.

To be fair, it was also the direction of the exit, but Brienne pretended to be oblivious to the presence of anyone but herself and lay back on the bench. She settled her fingers around the bar and tensed her shoulders.

A shape loomed over her. Jaime Lannister’s face appeared.

“I know you saw that,” he whispered conspiratorially.

She stared at his upside-down face, her eyes wide. She nodded.

“It was a twenty pound weight.” He grinned. “What is she, a toothpick?”

Brienne laughed.

Jaime Lannister grinned back for a moment, then he seemed to scan the bench and the weight she was about to lift. His grin faded. Maybe he was worried he couldn’t lift as much as her, but she’d seen him before. He could do it. So _what_ then?

He smiled a last, tiny smile and nodded, darting away.

She frowned. He hadn’t mocked her. He’d mocked the beautiful silver-haired temptress. It was all backwards. She poured her confusion into the weight and started working on her three hundred and ten pounds.

* * *

 

The next day, Ellaria tried something different. Brienne stopped by the smoothie stand while Jaime Lannister was doing his elliptical set. She’d been watching them both, and she’d seen how Jaime Lannister was avoiding Ellaria and how Ellaria seemed to have been staring at Jaime Lannister for the entirety of the time Brienne had been at the gym.

While Brienne had been stretching, her muscles more tense than usual, Jaime Lannister had been doing more chin-ups. Without a shirt. They had clear views of each other, and their eyes hadn’t met once. Ellaria had been lurking.

While Brienne was on the treadmill, Jaime Lannister had been rowing, the muscles of his back bunching and flexing. She’d seen it in the mirror. Ellaria had been lurking.

So Brienne took a break and ordered a smoothie to avoid looking like an idiot as she stood close to Ellaria, trying to determine what the woman was up to. Ellaria examined Brienne very carefully as she handed over the chia seed acai moringa morning burst smoothie. It was the worst one yet.

Ellaria nodded to herself. She moved away to call someone, a satisfied smirk on her face.

By the time Brienne forced herself to finish the repulsive “fruit” drink, the gym door opened, and in came a blond man wearing only spandex bike shorts and athletic shoes. He was tall and built like a swimmer, with broad shoulders and no body hair at all apart from his pale eyebrows. He had a delicate mouth. It was a strange observation, Brienne knew, but she _was_ observing people after all.

The man headed toward the smoothie stand. Ellaria grinned and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “It’s been too long, Olyvar.”

“Of course!” The man’s high voice pierced the atmosphere. Brienne cringed.

Ellaria leaned even closer, and Brienne wouldn’t have heard had she not been seated so close by.

“He’s right over there. The hot one.”

Brienne didn’t need to look to know Ellaria was pointing at Jaime Lannister. So this was today’s plan. Ellaria must have assumed that Jaime Lannister liked men since her own seduction, and silver-haired Daeny’s, had failed.

Brienne sighed. She didn’t think Jaime Lannister was gay. It was a gut feeling. But she could be wrong since she had little experience with…anything really.

She had to watch. It was too good to miss.

She set her smoothie down, this one too awful to even think of finishing, and she moved to a stationary bicycle not far from Jaime Lannister’s elliptical. She rarely used the bicycle, but it wasn’t unheard of. It shouldn’t attract attention.

She settled into a good clip and fixed her gaze on a television behind the treadmills, a row in front. Where the mirrored wall also was. She could see everything.

Olyvar soon wandered over, seeming to contemplate his choices. He paced around, hands on hips, and then he stared at the treadmills. He chose the one directly in front of Jaime Lannister. There was no one else using the machines at that moment. It was blatantly purposeful.

Brienne couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. She watched as Olyvar began running, slowly at first, with exaggerated steps that made his gluteus muscles stand out. He really did have quite a nice behind, but he was too thin, Brienne thought. Not as much definition as…

She swallowed thickly and stopped looking at the mirror.

She pedaled faster and decided to focus on her own body and no one else’s.

Until Olyvar sped up. He ran faster and faster, and his breathing turned into grunting. Brienne wasn’t sure if he was _trying_ to make it sound sexual or if he was just bad at running. She watched again, just for a moment. She saw Jaime Lannister look up in the mirror. She saw him spot Olyvar and adopt a fantastic grimace. She saw him laugh to himself and roll his eyes. She saw him scan around in the mirror until their eyes met.

He grinned at her. She averted her gaze instantly and turned beet red. Then she sighed and looked again. Jaime Lannister was staring at her in the mirror. He jerked his head toward Olyvar in front of them and crossed his eyes. She laughed.

Olyvar fell off the treadmill. He slid right off the back and toppled onto his nice behind, and this time, Brienne didn’t think the groan was fake.

She stopped pedaling and got off the bicycle to help him up, because he was a person as well as an idiot. Jaime Lannister also stopped on his elliptical and moved to help.

Jaime got there first. He extended a hand to help Olyvar up. “You all right?”

Olyvar took the hand and struggled to his feet. On instinct, Brienne looked in the mirror to catch sight of Ellaria. The Dornishwoman was starting intently, waiting for her answer.

Brienne decided to step forward and stop Olyvar from doing whatever Ellaria had convinced him to do. Had he fallen off the treadmill on purpose? No, he was using his free hand to rub a blossoming purple bruise on his back. That was going to hurt for real, and Brienne didn’t think he would have risked that.

But that wasn’t to say he’d waste an opportunity. Olyvar grinned at Jaime Lannister as he clasped his hand. Jaime tried to extricate himself gracefully. Olyvar kept hold. His smile turned sly. He stepped closer, and closer still. Brienne could see the shock in Jaime’s eyes.

It was all too fast. Olyvar stepped so close his chest grazed Jaime’s, and his free hand swept along Jaime’s thigh. “Thank you,” he said smoothly, charmingly.

Jaime snapped. He jerked free and stepped around a machine so there’d be something between them. “What the hells, man?”

Olyvar blanched. Ellaria must have lied to him. “S…Sorry. I’m sorry. I thought—”

Jaime grimaced. “Yeah, I know what you thought.” He sighed. “Look, it’s fine. It’s just...I’m not…”

Olyvar’s grimace matched Jaime’s. “I can see that. Sorry.”

Jaime nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. Olyvar shuffled away in embarrassment, and Brienne saw him flash Ellaria the finger in the mirror before he disappeared. Brienne thought Ellaria deserved it.

She glanced back at Jaime to find him looking straight at her. Not in the mirror, but _right_ at her. She managed what she hoped was an encouraging smile that would say without words how she knew he’d been embarrassed and was sorry about it.

His shoulders relaxed. He smiled back and shrugged. He didn’t dart away, it was more of a slow walk, and he glanced back once and smiled again.

She got back on the bicycle. It was the closest thing on which she could burn off her confusion.

In the mirror, Ellaria was staring at her, mouth open, eyes wide. Brienne thought Ellaria must be blaming her for ruining the Olyvar seduction attempt, no matter that it never would have worked anyway. Ellaria closed her mouth. She adopted an even slyer look than Brienne had seen before.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to see what Ellaria would do the next day, but she no longer pretended that she’d consider staying away.

* * *

 

“Here, I made this for you. On the house.” Ellaria beamed up at Brienne, sliding a dark brown smoothie along the counter.

Brienne stared at it. She thought she might be poisoning herself. “What’s this one called?”

“Coconut raspberry matcha energy madness.” Ellaria beamed more.

Brienne took the smoothie. She had no other choice, she knew, but if she could get away with holding her nose as she tried it, she would. She took a sip with the straw. Her eyes went wide. It wasn’t terrible. It was maybe even kind of decent.

“Hmm. Thank you, Ellaria. It’s good.”

“It’s his favorite,” Ellaria said.

Brienne froze. “What?”

“Well, it’s the only one he’ll drink anyway. He’s picky.” Ellaria shrugged.

Brienne knew that Ellaria referred to Jaime. She knew that Ellaria knew that Brienne knew. “Who?” she asked, because.

Ellaria turned sly viper. “You know who.”

This was a setup. Ellaria was up to something. Maybe she was out of people to use as victims. Maybe she wanted to see if Brienne knew more people she could use to test Jaime Lannister’s attraction.

She decided to be preemptive. “I don’t want anything to do with your tests.”

Ellaria just grinned. “Okay.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Enjoy the smoothie.” Ellaria glided away, out of the smoothie stand and into the weights area. She was out of sight entirely.

Brienne sighed. She sipped the smoothie. She tried to relax, but she was unable to shake the feeling that Ellaria was plotting.

Poor Jaime Lannister. She couldn’t understand why he hadn’t switched gyms yet.

He was coming out of the weights room. He’d been doing shirtless chin-ups while she’d been stretching. Their eyes hadn’t met.

She heard him rather than saw him, and smelled him, too. Everyone smelled like sweat in a gym, but there was clean sweat and gross sweat, and he always smelled clean with a hint of cedar.

She blinked. She didn’t look.

Ellaria shouted from the weights room, making Brienne jump. “Brienne? Could you hand me my phone? I left it out there.”

Brienne sighed. If she moved, she’d have to look at Jaime Lannister. But she couldn’t be rude. She scanned the smoothie stand and spotted the phone on the opposite side in front of the powder jars. If she leaned over and reached, she could probably get the phone without going behind the counter. She pushed her smoothie to the side to avoid spillage and leaned. She stood on her toes, her tight pants stretching over her muscles. She braced one knee on a stool, and her fingers grazed the phone. She had it!

She smelled Ellaria. The Dornishwoman’s perfume reeked of oud and arrived in a cloud ten feet before she did.

Maybe Brienne wouldn’t have to look at Jaime after all. She was surprised to feel more disappointment than relief. And he was probably long gone anyhow, though cedar still lingered under the oud.

She stood up with the phone in her hand.

An _ooph_ sounded behind her, and a grunt, like someone had been shoved.

Jaime Lannister stumbled against her, hard enough that her stomach took the brunt of the smoothie stand counter and her hands shot out to brace themselves.

His naked chest was plastered against her back. His breath was on her neck. His thighs fit along hers. Something moved. His hands were on the counter outside hers. She could see them, his strong fingers almost clenching. She breathed hard.

He moved. Closer.

How was it that Ellaria the beautiful lithe Dornishwoman, and Daeny the beautiful silver-haired boob model, and…well, Olvyar didn’t really count, but how was it that _she_ got the reaction where two modelesque beauties had failed?

She blinked rapidly. She needed to run or bicycle or something, to burn away the confusion, because there was _a lot_.

Jaime’s fingers twitched. They unclenched. They moved until they settled over hers and twined in between hers with his warm palms pressing against the backs of her hands.

She twisted, or tried to. She had to see his face. She could only manage to glance at his left ear because his body was a frozen cage. She’d been stupid to doubt he could lift as much as her. She was sure he could lift more even. It would be a real fight to escape him if he didn’t want her to.

And he wasn’t budging. So she twisted her neck as far as she could and whispered, “Why?”

Their eyes didn’t meet because they couldn’t, but she felt him exhale against her neck and then inhale with his nose buried in her hair. “I’d think it’s just slightly obvious that I’m attracted to you.”

His hips moved in a very slow, tiny circle. It wasn’t her fault that she maybe arched her back ever so slightly, just enough that her behind did some _things_. His reaction became more apparent.

He didn’t want the tanned Dornish goddess. He didn’t want the porcelain doll model.

He wanted _her_. There’d be no reason to fake that, and Brienne knew he wasn’t anyway. There was a rather spectacular bit of anatomy proving that.

He chuckled. She felt every vibration rumble through her body, and he let go of her fingers and wrapped his arms around her so there was no space at all between them. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

He gripped her harder and tried to spin her around. She resisted.

“Please? I want to see your eyes,” he whispered in her ear.

“Why?”

“Because they’re beautiful,” he said immediately.

Nobody had ever said anything about her was beautiful. It would be the cruelest thing for him to lie about that. She twisted around, not meeting his gaze until the last second, with their bodies pressed together completely and his _reaction_ even bigger and harder against her like it was daring her to believe him. He stared at her. It was intense and uncomfortable. It frightened her.

She just wasn’t…sure. “I don’t understand,” she admitted with a pained grimace and a clenched chest.

“Does it matter if you understand?” His breath warmed her skin.

She shuddered but controlled herself. “Yes.”

He rolled his hips into her. “Does anybody ever understand why? It just is. Your eyes are beautiful, and you’re ridiculously strong, and I’ve had a hell of a time hiding this every time I work out and you’re stretching those long legs right in front of me. And you have a fine ass, and I want you, but I think you know that already.”

Brienne felt herself turning red. She felt the tension in her muscles simultaneously dissolve and grow worse in some sexual paradox. His cedar scent was overwhelming her. “Oh.”

“Oh?” he repeated with some deeper question in his eyes, which were the beautiful ones, not hers.

“Oh,” she said.

“Okay then,” he said.

“Okay.”

He kissed her. Hard and sloppy. It was completely inappropriate for a first kiss, but then they _were_ all wrapped around each other against a smoothie stand in a gym with his erection burrowing into her hip. She’d have to think about how things like this didn’t happen to women like her later. Instead, she opened her mouth.

Somewhere behind them, an oud-scented cloud chuckled.

 


End file.
